Self-help bible The Power promises to transform your life, so why did it make Arabella Weir crazy?

My name is Arabella and I am AMAZING. Don’t worry, you are AMAZING too. You and I are meant to have an AMAZING life.

To
live in this Utopian splendour all we have to do is cough up 15 quid
and read a new book called The Power which claims to unlock the secrets
to having anything you want with ease.

Written by the now
California-based Australian author Rhonda Byrne, it’s become something
of a phenomenon with more than 19 million sales worldwide. The Power
instructs readers to project feelings of love all the time. Then, as a
direct result of this outpouring, the reader will achieve endless love
and success, sometimes manifesting itself in the most surprising way.

For example, the author tells us she loved a skirt she spotted a woman in Paris wearing, but didn’t ask the woman where she’d bought it. Oh no, instead she allowed herself only to feel overwhelming love for it.

A few weeks later in Australia, Rhonda doesn’t just spot the exact same skirt in a shop window but — wait for it — the skirt is in her size! To any logical person that would be nothing more than a coincidence, not to mention a splendid example of the mass production and distribution of ladies’ separates. But, according to Ms Byrne, this is ‘proof that The Power works’ and that the love she felt brought the skirt to her.

I dare say you’re thinking what I was thinking, but then I scolded myself for being such a cynic. Why not give it a go? What’s the worst that can happen? That I start spotting nice skirts everywhere?

So, on day one of my new, AMAZING life — once the kids have gone to school, I leave the house. It’s 8.30am. I’m wearing a beatific smile and transmitting all the love I can muster as I walk down my street. I spot my friend and neighbour Jane at her window. Great, I think, I actually do love her, so I don’t need to pretend. Jane opens the window and calls out: ‘Are you drunk? You look really weird.’

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What’s the matter with you?’ Jane cries looking somewhat perturbed at the Stepford Wife who bids her a breezy farewell. I feel only love for Jane. I don’t feel cross with her at all for accusing me of being sozzled in the morning.

Having completed my errands, I decide to reward myself with coffee. Suddenly I have the ideal opportunity to test The Power’s techniques as, in the cafe, there is a woman wearing a beautiful coat. I want that coat badly. I try not to feel envy but instead just love the coat in the belief that it will come to me.

As the coat wearer goes to leave the cafe, I panic. I’m not sure it will come to me. I’m not going to Australia any time soon. I decide to ask her where it’s from. ‘My mother made it, it’s a one-off,’ the wearer of the coat tells me in reply to my question.

I bet that wouldn’t happen to Rhonda — I loved it and there is no way on earth it is ever coming to me. It’s only day one and I’m doubting The Power, but I reassure myself that it’s too soon to expect results — to keep going, pour out my love and not lose sight of that AMAZING life I am meant to have.

It’s only day one and I’m doubting The Power, but I reassure myself that it’s too soon to expect results

I go into London’s West End for an audition for a movie. It’s a small part that I think is too small to require a meeting, but I must love the process and the role will come to me.

Oh dear, strike number two. The director doesn’t seem to like me at all and doesn’t even let me read for the part. ‘That won’t be necessary, thanks, good to meet you,’ he says in a tone that makes it clear he feels the exact opposite. I smile, trying to hang on to the conviction that I feel nothing but love all the time. I must not give space to the anger I feel at having got myself done up like a dog’s dinner to go into town on a hot, sweaty Tube train only to be dismissed in seconds. My fixed smile looking more deranged than dreamy, I make my way home to prepare supper.

As my two children and their father sit down to the meal I have cooked, I see shoulders slump. Both kids whine, ‘Oh, not pasta again!’

'The Power': The self-help guide has sold more than 19m copies worldwide

Then my husband says: ‘They’ve got a point darling — you do make pasta rather a lot,’ he sighs.

And with that, I’ve had enough. To hell with all this ‘everything-is-beautiful-in-its-own-little-way-just-give-out-love’ rubbish! I have made an effort, the same as I do day in, day out and people are not appreciating it and I am cross. I’m not going to shrug it off — why should I when it brings me far more pleasure to tell them what a bunch of ungrateful wretches they are?

The Power is stupid. Even the paper it’s printed on is stupid. It’s that odd, waxy, wipe-clean paper used for those free pamphlets that people try and force on you in shopping centres. Just as off-putting are the many quotes peppered liberally throughout the text in an effort to suggest the author has some historical basis to her ‘revelations’. They’re printed in italics too, using a ‘ye olde’ font, further suggestive of the wisdom they must surely hold.

Who knew?

Sales of self-help books have risen by more than 40 per cent in the past five years

But The Power isn’t wise — it’s woolly and aimed at people desperate to find a way through life where there’s no such thing as personal responsibility.

It’s a book targeting a generation duped by the belief that they can get what they want without having to work for it. And, while I’m on my high horse, what if what you want is wicked, depraved or illegal? Funnily enough, The Power doesn’t address that possibility.

What if all this love I’ve been instructed to release is directed at my neighbour’s husband? (Not yours Jane, relax.)

Every person adhering to the nonsensical advice put forward in this book is being suckered into a faux religion where everyone always gets what they want. Ultimately, when the reader hasn’t won the lottery, married Johnny Depp, and lost their flabby stomach, then only the inevitable awaits them — crushing disappointment and bewilderment at how The Power could have let them down.

So if you’re thinking of buying it, might I suggest you feel the love for what I have written — and riches will come your way in the amount of the £15 I will have saved you.